Always In My Heart
by MountainAir
Summary: Several scenes from the Hunger Games from Gale's perspective. What is he really thinking as he watches the girl he loves fight to the death? How does he handle it back home in District 12?
1. Day of the Reaping

**I'm in a Gale mood :) I've never written anything from his perspective, though, so we'll see how it goes... **

**...**

I stand huddled in a clump of eighteen year-olds from the Seam. Our Square isn't very large compared to the other Districts - needing to hold only about eight thousand - so naturally, there isn't too much space to move around. Or breathe.

I look through the crowd, trying to find Katniss. At last, my eyes land on her in the group of sixteen year-olds, looking a deathly calm. But anyone who knows her as well as I do would know that she is nervous; she's put on her Mask. That's what I call it, anyway, her way of hiding what she's feeling so that others don't pay any attention to her. She doesn't want to draw attention to herself.

It's hard for me not to look at her, though. She looks so beautiful in that blue dress, but at the same time, so unlike herself. Not that I'm complaining.

I try to catch her eye, to make her turn her face towards me, but there are always people in the way. The Square becomes more crowded by the second, and I'm starting to worry that I won't be able to see the full view of her face before they call out the names. I need her to look at me, _really_ look at me, so that my nerves for her will calm down.

It's not that I'm not nervous for myself or Prim, of course, but with Katniss it's different - everything is different. Losing her to the Games would be more painful than losing myself to them. She means more than the world to me, but I'm just too afraid to tell her; I don't want it to ruin our friendship if she doesn't feel the same way as I do.

My attention is brought back to the stage as Mayor Undersee makes his way to the microphone. He adjusts his glasses and starts to read the same thing we hear every single year: how Panem rose from the ashes of a place once known as North America, blah blah blah, Dark Days and destruction and all that crap, blah blah blah. We've heard it a thousand times, and quite frankly, it's not really a story I want to hear, it being the reason our friends and neighbours -sometimes ourselves- are sent into the Hunger Games to die.

Next, he repeats the rules of the Games as if we all don't already know that it's where they send children to be brutally slaudered by their own country. I'm guessing that most of his script wasn't written himself, because he probably isn't as ecstatic about it as President Snow. He finishes the explanation with, "It is both a time for repentance and a time for thanks."

I have to stiffle a snort when he says that. What exactly are we thankful for? Being sent out to kill eachother and most likely die?

I clench my jaw and try to control myself, because there's a small chance that the cameras could be trained somewhere near me, and I don't want anyone from the Capitol seeing my annoyance. I can just imagine them replaying this when I'm Reaped and having the Gamemakers kill me in some horrible way. I wouldn't be surprised.

Our past victors are announced -which proudly consist of two people in seventy three years- and Haymitch Abernathy makes his way onto the stage, swaying from side to side. He's drunk, as usual. Our only living victor makes us so bubbly with pride that we can hardly stand to have him around. Really. We can't.

He looks confused, then launches himself onto Effie Trinket for a hug. Her face is absolutely priceless, momentarily taking some of my nerves away. She yelps and tries to move away, causing her Capitolized wig to fall to the side. She must not have noticed, though, because she steps up to the mic to speak.

"Happy Hunger Games!" she hollers. "And may the odds be _ever _in your favor!"

I glance back towards Katniss again. Her mask is still there, but it's beginning to slip as the time to choose the tributes draws closer. Finally, she feels my stare and locks eyes with me. I smile at her, still slightly amused by the Reaping so far, but mostly trying to ease some of the tension. I wait for her to return the smile, but she doesn't. Instead, her face darkens and her eyes become more wide and scared as she looks at me. I'd give anything to know what she's thinking, but I think I have a pretty good idea.

This year, I have forty-two slips in the boys' reaping ball. Compared to the six slips most of the boys my age have, the odds are definitely_ not _in my favor. But I've accepted that, accepted that my fate might already have been sealed for me. But I don't want Katniss to worry about me right now - she needs to worry about herself. _I_ need to worry about her. The odds aren't in her favor, either.

I turn my face back around right as Effie Trinket announces, "Ladies first!"

I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut. _Not Katniss, not Katniss, not Katniss, not Katniss_. My panic increases as the crowd falls silent, and I wait for my life to be over, for the beginning of her name to be called out. _Please,_ I think. _Anyone but her. Anyone but Katniss._

And it's not. It's Primrose Everdeen.

...

As soon as I hear the P, I let out a collective breath. My Catnip is safe. She isn't going into the Hunger Games.

But as my brain reboots itself, I realize just exactly what's happened; I realize who was called out.

Prim.

"No," I whisper. My heart drops to my stomach as I figure out what I'm about to see. If there's one thing Katniss won't allow, it's for anything to harm her little sister. And so in that moment, standing in the square, I experience vertigo for the first time ever. My head spins, and it feels as if I'm about to do a face plant into the cement.

In the distance, I hear the unmistakeable cry of anguish from Katniss. The absolute worst sound I will ever hear, I'm sure of it.

"Prim!" she screams. "Prim!"

Someone is holding me up, but I don't wait one second to see who it is. I sprint from my place and over to the front of the stage, where Katniss is throwing Primrose behind her as if she's shielding her from oncoming bullets. They might as well have been bullets shooting at us; I'm not sure I would have noticed. All I can see is the girl I love's horrified face as she blurts, "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!"

I'd been expecting nothing less. But still, her words hit me like a knife to the heart. I want to grab her and run right then and there, but I know it's impossible. We really should have taken off this morning, like I'd suggested. We would've been loads safer than we are here, and she wouldn't have to volunteer to die for her sister.

My own thoughts repeat in my head and I feel my eyes stinging.

_No,_ I think to myself sternly. _You can't cry now. Be strong, for Katniss. She needs you._

I grab Primrose from behind and hold her away from Katniss. She squirms like hell, but I have no choice. Katniss catches my eye again, and for a moment it feels as if everything around us has gone into slow motion.

"Go on up, Catnip," I whisper. I'm not sure if she heard me, but that might be a good thing. My voice was probably shaking.

She mounts the stage, and I take Prim over to stand with her mother. They're both sobbing uncontrollably now, so I can't stay with them any longer. I need to get away so that I don't start crying, too. I can't look weak infront of all these people, especially since they'll probably show Katniss later in the Capitol. She doesn't need to see me crying over her before she goes in, as if I've already given up all hope. Because I haven't.

"Well bravo! That's the spirit of the Games! What's your name?"

I hear Katniss announce her name, but it seems as if I'm listening from somewhere far away. This can't really be happening.

"I bet my buttons that was your sister. Dont want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on, everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" trills Effie Trinket. I clench my fists and wait for the crows to go wild, but not one person claps. A silence more harsh than any proclamation could've been rings out through the Square, leaving our escort standing onstage awkwardly.

I look around me at the solomn faces of my neighbours, and bring my three fingers to my lips. My friends quickly follow suit, and before I know it, the entire District is raising their fingers to the stage to the dark-haired girl staring back at us with wide eyes. I extend my hand out to my Catnip, silently sending out all of the love I've been holding in for her up onto the stage.

My respect for our District increases immensely in that moment. In our own quiet way, we have just defied the Capitol like no one has done in decades.

Katniss' eyes fill up, but she quickly swallows down her tears and regains her composure. That's my girl, staying strong to earn herself some sponsers early on.

Suddenly, Haymitch Abernathy is right up in her face, probably forcing her to smell his horendous alcohol breath. "Look at her. Look at this one!" He throws an arm around her shoulders, making me want to slice it right off infront of everybody. "I like her! Lots of..." He ponders for a moment, his head lolling from left to right. "Spunk! More than you! More than you!" The drunken idiot releases Katniss and points directly into the camera. He must be so drunk that he's actually brave enough to taunt the Capitol. He then sways for a moment before passing out right infront of our eyes and falling off the stage.

I want to laugh, to do something, but I can't. I can only keep my eyes trained on Katniss as she lets one single tear fall now that the cameras aren't on her anymore. Almost as soon as it falls, she swipes it away and her usual mask returns. But I didn't miss it; I saw it as clearly as I can see the color of her hair.

I yearn to reach out to her. More than anything, I want to run up onto the stage and wrap my arms around her, protecting her from all of the terror that are bound to follow. Unfortunately, there are Peacekeepers lining the stairs.

Effie Trinket waddles back to the microphone, her face flushed from the day's excitements. "It's time to chose our boy tribute!" she exclaims. I barely have time to be scared before she calls out the name. "Peeta Mellark!"

A blond haired boy that I recognize from the bakery walks up to the stage. It would be impossible to not see how terrified he is; his face is pale as a sheet and his eyes have the wild look to them that I'm used to seeing in my prey before delivering the death blow.

His eyes train on Katniss, and I follow her gaze. To my surprise, she looks panicked. I wonder if she knows him somehow, but decide not to worry about it. After all, she's probably just imagining herself killing him, or the other way around.

They shake hands, and the Peacekeepers lead them away, making walls around them so that they can't run off. "Anyone who would like to visit the tributes before they leave need to report to the Justice Building immediately," calls out Effie Trinket.

My heart beating so fast it feels as if it will explode from my chest, I shove my way through the crowd and towards the small crowd of people headed that way.

...

When I reach the Justice Building, I'm directed over to a narrow hallway. At the end are two metal doors that I assume contain Katniss and Peeta.

"Wait here." The Peacekeeper actually looks bored as leans back against the wall, as if he has the most boring job in history. Does he not realize how much heartache he's around? There are friends and family of both Katniss and Peeta who are waiting in the same spot I am, crying and leaning on eachother for support. What if it had been one of his children being sent out?

I suppose he'll never be able to relate to this unimaginable pain that we are feeling, because he _works _for them. He actually serves the discusting, bloodthirsty Capitol.

He must realize that I'm staring at him, because he looks up. "What do you want?" he demands.

I feel my face heating up with rage, and I let out a low growl. I don't know if it's the emotional trauma of the day or just how big of a jerk this guy must be, but I want to punch his face in.

He takes a step forward, trying to intimidate me. "Well?"

My arm twitches as I fight the strong temptation of hitting him, but I don't want to upset these people any more than they already are. I step away from him and mumble an embarrassing, "Nothing."

He laughs humorlessly and goes back to stand by the wall.

I barely have enough time to turn around before someone small flies into my arms. Primrose.

I hold her as she sobs into my chest, suddenly wishing that we were alone so that I could cry with her. But I know that if I let myself break down, I'll never find my way back up. And I need to be strong now, for Katniss and our families. I hold Prim in my arms until her and and are called away. Once they're gone, I see Madge in line to go in next, but don't wonder what she's doing here. I always knew that her and Katniss would have some kind of friendship together. They're alike in many ways, even though their lives are so different.

She goes in, and then even Peeta's father, the baker, does. But I don't care anymore. I'm too numb to feel much by this point.

At last, the door is being reopened and the worker is gesturing for me to go in. I step inside with my arms held open, not wanting to go one more second without her with me.

Luckily she doesn't hesitate before jumping into my arms. Maybe there is nothing romantic between us yet, but it makes me wonder if there could have been. The way she cares about me so much that she can just throw herself into my arms and just react the way she's wanted to since they called Prim's name means everything to me. I want to stay here with her forever, never needing to see her in that arena.

She tightens her grip on me, holding onto me like a lifeline. It breaks me even more when I realize that this could mean she loves me back after all. But what good would it do now? She's going into the Hunger Games, and only has a one in twenty-four chance of coming home to me -

No. She has much more chance than that. She's my Catnip, after all - the strongest, most skilled hunter I know. If anyone in District 12 has the ability to win this, it's her.

"Listen," I say urgently. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance." It may be an obvious thing to say, but I need to make sure it's fresh in her mind when she goes into the Capitol.

"They don't always have bows," she says quietly. She must be thinking of all the horrible weapons and equipments they've used in the arenas instead of practical ones.

I search my brain for some way to solve this, and finally blurt out, "Then make one. Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all."

Katniss' brows come together in worry as she mentions that she doesn't even know if there will be any wood. I want to run my finger across them and smooth them out, taking away all of her worries. It seems like a pretty impossible job now, though.

"There's almost always some wood," I tell her. "Since that year half of them died of cold. Not much entertainment in that."

"Yes, there's usually some," she whispers.

It looks like she thinks she has no chance at all of coming home, of winning this thing. I let out a breath, exasperated. "Katniss, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know."

"It's not just hunting. They're armed. They think," she argues.

"So do you. And you've had more practice. Real practice," I say. "You know how to kill."

"Not people."

I feel horrible saying it, but I tell her grimly, "How different can it be, really?"

She looks back up at me, her gray Seam eyes big and scared. Suddenly the Peacekeepers are opening the door, forcing me through.

"I need more time! Just a couple minutes, please!" I yell. But it's too late. They're pulling me out without even listening to what I'm saying.

Katniss springs forward and grasps my hand. "Don't let them starve!"

"I won't! You know I won't!" I say. I'm being dragged farther and farther away from her at an alarming rate, but there's still one more thing that I want to tell her. Need to tell her. "Katniss, remember I-" The door slams shut just as the last words, the words I've been wanting to tell her for months, pass my lips. "...love you."

I fall to a heap on the floor, feeling miserable. _Why couldn't I have told her sooner? Why did I wait so long?_ I want to scream at myself.

But all of my energy has been taken from me. I'm left feeling lost, like my brain is wandering around some faraway other world where I can't reconnect it with my body.

"Go home," grunts one of the Peacekeepers. Insensitive jerks.

Numbly, I stand up and leave the building. I walk through the streets alone, trying to act like I can't hear all the celebrating going on in all of the houses. Most people right now are cooking up great celebratory meals for their families -maybe even taking out gifts- because their own children have been spared for another year. But meanwhile, there are two familes who will close up their curtains and block out the world around them so that they can grieve, preparing themselves for the weeks that are to come. Looks like my family will be one of those, along with the Everdeens and Mellarks. But for me, I won't be grieving for a sister or friend - I'll be grieving for the girl I love. The only girl I will ever feel this way about.

All the way home, she's all I can think about. Her image fills my head: long, dark hair, gray eyes, beautiful features. She probably doesn't even have any idea of the effect she has on boys, and I'm not sure she ever will, but I wish I could have told her all those times in the forest.

_The forest._ I mentally groan. Will I ever be able to hunt again? I suppose I have to; our families need to be fed, no matter what.

No matter how painful it will be for me, knowing that I don't have to watch her back, and she doesn't have to watch mine. For a moment I wonder why I hadn't volunteered to go in with her. We could have been unstoppable together... but then I think of Prim, Rory, Vick, Posy, and our mothers, and the thought dissapears.

My house is dead silent when I enter. Posy is asleep on the couch, too young to really understand what has just happened. Vick and Rory have obviously been sent to their rooms by Mother, because she knows me well enough to be able to figure out that I don't want them around me right now. I don't really want anybody, except for Katniss and maybe her.

I slip my boots off my feet and go into my bedroom to change, not wanting to be in these clothes for another minute. I'll probably burn them later if Mother lets me. I don't want any kind of reminder of this day, ever.

"Oh, Gale."

My mother enters my bedroom, but I don't acknoledge her just yet. I stand by my dresser in my jeans and a t-shirt, trying to distract myself with anything, but everything I take out reminds me of days I've spent in the forest, hunting with Katniss. My jacket, warmest clothes, ropes.

I spin around, unable to hold it in anymore, and let my mother rush up to embrace me. She holds me tight as the tears I've been trying not to let out fall down my face steadily. I can't remember crying since the day my father was killed in the mines, but the pain I'm feeling now is unlike anything. I can't help it.

"She's gone. She's gone," I repeat over and over again.

My mother pulls back and looks me straight in the eye. "Don't think for one second that she's gone, Gale. She's the biggest fighter out there. There's no chance she won't win this."

I squeeze my eyes shut as more tears fall down my face, but my mother brushes them away swiftly, just like I'm six years old again and have fallen down and scraped my knee.

"What if she doesn't, Mother?" I say. "What will I do then?"

I tip forward into her, taking small comfort in her familiar scent. "You''ll remember her with fond memories, and forget about these awful Games. You'll forget everything you see on that screen, and just remember her the way you've known her all of these years. You'll remember her as the girl you've fallen in love with, not the girl who's been taken away from you," she tells me. "Because sweatheart, she never would be gone, even if something were to happen to her. She'll always be with you, here." She takes me hand in her own and places it over my heart.

I guess I should have known that my mother would know about my love for Katniss. She seems to have always known everything about me. Maybe it's her motherly intuition, or maybe I'm just really easy to read, but she has definitely figured things out. And she probably did a while ago.

I swallow hard, then tell her, "Thank-you, Mother."

"Anytime, sweetheart." She kisses me on the forehead and leaves the room. Watching her go, I'm filled with loneliness. But at the same time, I know that she's right. Katniss is the biggest fighter out there, and if she doesn't win this thing, then no one will.


	2. Opening Ceremonies

The next twenty four hours are some of the most excruciating I've ever been through. I know that my behavior is worrying my mother, but I can't help it. I often found myself staring blankly at a wall, wanting to cry, but being unable to. I haven't cried since last night with my mother, and I plan to stay as strong as I can from here on out. But how much longer will I be able to stand it? The Games haven't even started yet, and I'm feeling more horrible than ever.

I know that things are bound to get much worse from now on in, but I find myself still in denial of what's happening. Even though the evidence is right infront of my eyes, I try to pretend as if it isn't happening, as if she isn't far from home now, doing God knows what.

I imagine they're feeding her well. I'm happy that she's getting food before going in, but it reminds me too much of what they do to animals before sending them to the slaughter house. It's discustingly similar to what they must be doing to her, I think bitterly. The idea of my Catnip being used that way is infuriating. But I don't let myself get too angered; I can't give up on her. I need to feed her family, as well as my own, with only myself to hunt.

The morning after the reaping, I wake before sunrise and head out into the woods. Like usual, the gate behind the Seam isn't alive with electricity, so I can sneek under it without needing to worry about being burned to a crisp. My bow and ropes in hand, I walk through the woods quietly until I reach our meeting place.

When I first arrive, I squeeze my eyes shut tightly and imagine that when I open them, Katniss will be sitting on our usual rock with the same long braid blowing behind her in the wind. I imagine that when I open them, she'll see me and smile. Maybe tell me to come and sit with her under the sunrise.

But I know that in reality, the moment I open my eyes, the very things I see behind my eyelids will be nowhere in sight.

Sure enough, I open my eyes to see that I'm completely, horribly alone. There's a sinking feeling in my stomach, one that I can't recognize but am able to place as sorrow. I can't remember hunting alone since I was fourteen years old, other than the times that Katniss has been sick. I can't remember one time where I had to watch my own back, and not watch hers. How can I do this alone? How can I carry on, feeding both our families, without her here to keep me in place?

Then I remember. I made her a promise, right before she was taken away. I promised her to keep them fed, and that's exactly what I do.

But still, as much as I try to stay on task, I barely catch a thing.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

I immediately know that I'm going to be late. After four long hours of not being able to catch much game, I gave up and decided to come home. We have enough food to last us the day, anyway. Besides, I have bigger problems to worry about at the moment, like how I may be missing the Opening Ceremonies.

"Gale!" my mother yells as I enter. "You'd better hurry, the seal of Panem has already come onscreen!"

I burst into our small living room, tearing off my shoes on the way in and almost falling straight on my face. Rory stiffles a laugh at my entry, and I glare at him, wondering how he can be so comfortable.

"Gale, it's only the Opening Ceremonies," he tells me. His face softens slightly. "Nothing bad can happen to her yet."

I nod, my face slowly building itself into an emotionless mask. I want to appear strong infront of my siblings, because I know that if I look nervous, it will definitely rub off on them. Especially little Posy, who still hasn't a clue on what's going on, being only four years old.

Seeking her comfort, I lean down and scoop her up into my arms before sitting down on the couch next to my mother. She nuzzles her face into my chest, already tired at seven o'clock at night.

"Gawel," she says, her big grey eyes looking up at me. "Whut are you wuwied about?"

I sigh, and look at my mother for help. "Nothing yet, Posy," she tells her softly. "There's nothing to be worried about."

Posy doesn't look too concinced, but she decides to leave it and snuggle back into my chest. Her breathing slows in seconds as she slowly dozes off.

"It's starting," announces Vick. And it's true. The national anthem has ended, and the cameras are gliding through the streets of the Capitol until they arrive at the starting point of the parade. People are seated in bleachers all around the entrance, screaming and waving around signs as brightly coloured lights shine in their faces. Their excitement in seeing the tributes who are all most likely going to die in the next few days is increasing my loathing towards them. But I don't show it.

"Welcome, people of Panem!" President Snow's heavily accented voice booms through the speakers. More cheers errupt. "I welcome you all to the Opening Ceremonies of the 74th Annual Hunger Games!"

The camera spins around quickly, and a large display of fireworks explodes into the sky. They last only about fifteen seconds, and soon, we can see the screaming Capitol citizens in the bleachers again.

"Please remain fully clothed throughout the entire parade," Snow says quickly, as if his words will be less heard if he says them fast. It never surprises me the things they must do in the Capitol. "Now, let the fun begin!"

The names of the districts, along with the names of the tributes, are shown on the large screen as the chariots enter. Screams ring out mostly for the Career tributes, but I'm too nervous to care. What if they make Katniss look ridiculous? What if they dress her in awful clothes, or no clothes at all? If her stylists don't pull this off, then I don't know what can possibly get her enough sponsers.

I pay no attention to the other tributes. I mean, sure, I take note of the ones that appear intimidating or beautiful enough to get loads of sponsers, but I don't let myself worry about who she'll be up again. All I can think about is how Katniss will look, what her stylists have dressed her in - if anything at all.

I pray she has some clothes on. Last year our tributes were sent out naked, and I don't know what I'd do if Katniss were forced to do the same. She'd be horrified, and so would I.

I squeeze Posy almost too tightly as the door opens for District Twelve. Not a single sound can be heard in our living room apart from the television. Even the sounds of our breathing have momentarily paused.

The chariot pulls out, and my breath hitches in my throat as I see them, engulfed in flames.

I lean forward suddenly, sending my little sister flailing to the floor. I apologize weakly as my mother picks her up, but don't pay any more attention to her. My eyes are too glued on the screen to be able to see anything else. Before I have time to really panic, I notice that the flames aren't hurting them. I see Peeta's face first, glowing and smiling, not a trace of pain in his expression. I am able to breathe again.

That is, until the camera moves to the left and I catch sight of Katniss.

Her hair is pulled back into her signiture braid, but she looks more painfully beautiful than any other human being I have ever seen. Her face is lit in all the right places, showing off her high cheekbones and strong features, and her eyes seem to be glowing with power and determination. The flames iluminate her face so perfectly, it's as if she's meant to be like this, like a girl on fire.

"She's beautiful," my mother murmurs. I nod, unable to say more.

We watch in silence as the crowd screams their names, throwing roses and even rising in their seats. Peeta smiles at them all, unbelievably confident and happy. Katniss starts waving, blowing them kisses, even.

I feel as if I should be scared seeing her like this, in the Capitol, with their citizens screaming out her name. But all I can think is that maybe she really does have a chance of sponsers after all. Maybe she'll really come home.

...

**Feel free to make requests in the reviews.**


	3. Training Scores

I decide to go to the Town Square to watch the scores being announced. At first I'd told myself that I'd never go into the Square during the Games, because it reminded me too much of the Reaping and all of the horrors that came along with that, but I can't resist; I feel as if this is my last real opportunity to be out of the house before Katniss goes into the arena.

When I reach the Square, I see that most of my friends from school are also here to watch. I haven't spoken to them at all since the Reaping, and I'm sure they'll understand why. My closest friends, Rean and Maxyl, have already figured out how I feel about Katniss. I've grown up with them - all three of us live in the Seam - so they know me well enough to be able to figure out how hard this is going to be for me.

I walk over to them solemly, hoping they don't see the redness in my eyes from unshed tears or the purple bags under my eyes. "Hey," I say. My voice sounds hoarse from disuse.

They look almost startled to see me. "Oh hey, Gale," Maxyl says. Him and Rean smile at me sympathetically.

"Look, man, we're really sorry," says Rean. "I can't believe she... I can't imagine what you're going through." I listen to what they're saying, but only half-way. My mind is spinning, nervous for the scores.

Max picks up on it fast. "You okay?"

I nod. "I'm just... nervous for her."

This is all I need to say. Rean and Maxyl are my best friends, but even they know when to back off - a guy can only talk about his feelings so much.

I turn my attention back to front of the Square. The mayor and his wife sit on the stage somewhat awkwardly. I don't think it happens too often that someone they know is sent out to fight in the Hunger Games, and for someone to sacrifice herself like that... it's bound to make people more unhappy about it.

Unhappy is the nicest word I can think of to describe how I'm feeling. Most of the others consist of hatred and well thought out profanities towards the Capitol and our president.

The giant screen over the stage flickers to life, and Ceasar Flickerman appears on screen, as hideous and unnatural-looking as ever with his blue hair, skin, and suit.

"Hello, Panem! It's been a rough few days, but at last, the training scores have finally arrived!" he says. Fake cheering blasts through the speakers. "First off, we have District one!"

The faces of the tributes appear on screen. The majority of the Careers get somewhere between an eight and a ten. My nerves build up when I see this, but my confidence in Catnip overtakes that. With her years of hunting and her determination, I'm certain that she's done well.

But as Peeta Mellark's face appears on screen, my anxiety raises immensely. It's as if every ticking of the clock sends me into a bigger frenzy. I need to know how she did. I need to know how much hope we have.

At last, a picture of Katniss appears on the screen. A few cheers break out among the Square, and I almost smile. Almost.

Then, as the few seconds before the number is posted, a pin dropping could be heard. It seems as if people not only have stopped talking, but they've also stopped _breathing. _It's so quiet, and these few moments are so intense, that I nearly rip my hair out from their roots.

Her face fades away, and a number replaces it.

Her training score.

An eleven.

A stunned silence fills the crowd. I'm the first to break out of the daze, screaming a triumphant, "YES!"

Soon our entire district is jumping up and down. Young children dance around, and some people even have tears of relief in their eyes. Rean and Maxyl slap me on the shoulders, and we grin at eachother knowingly.

_That's my Catnip, _I think proudly.I let myself have these few minutes of happiness for Katniss. And it's easy to, because at last, after years of waiting, we've finally found ourselves a tribute with a chance of winning this thing, of coming back home to us.


	4. The Interviews

The days between television showings are slow and lonely. I wake up at the same time as I always used to, but instead I find myself just laying there staring at the ceiling of my tiny bedroom. I wonder what Katniss is doing, if she's scared, if she has anyone to talk to. And I doubt it.

Vick squirms next to me and I turn my face to look at him. He's a young reflection of myself; strong jaw, dark wisps of black hair falling into his eyes, wide shoulders. And I know that if he opens his eyes I'll see the same grey eyes that we all share. Not just the Hawthornes, but all of the Seam people. Katniss too.

I wonder again what she's doing. I know that I should be getting up now, to go hunting. But hunting is so hard without her; it always feels like something is going to jump out at me. And it isn't just me being a coward - it's the emptiness of the forest. It feels so much more alive when she's with me, like the birds are singing and the animals are scurrying just for her.

My family is the only thing holding me up. I hate it when they're hungry, when Posy wraps her tiny arms around my ankles and says, "Can I have food, Gawle?" I swore not to let them go hungry, and I won't break that promise.

So I get up and head to the forest, to be alone once again.

I squeeze myself under the fence and head over to our normal meeting place, where her bow and arrows still lay. I wish I could send them to her to use in the Games, because there's no way she can make it on her own without help. If I were with her, I'd be able to protect her. I'd be able to do more than I can here in 12, just sitting infront of the television waiting for something to get her.

"Stop," I mumble to myself. "That won't help anything." Lately prep talks have been keeping me sane.

I reach for my hunting bag and go to check my snares. The sun bares down on my shoulders through my shirt and I pull it over my head, savoring the heat of the day. The vitamin D soaks into my skin and distracts me from my own thoughts.

The rest of the day goes by in a never-ending blur. I collect my game, pick some blackberries - Katniss' favorite - and fish by the lake. All of the things I used to do with her, done by myself.

On my way home I see the lights turned on in the Everdeen's house. The sun has already gone down and I'm surprised to see light shining through the curtain; it seems as though they always have them off now. But I suppose the interviews should be starting soon, and they don't want to miss them.

I knock on their door and a moment later Primrose peeks her head out. When she sees me her eyes take in the game bag strapped over my shoulder. "Hello Gale," she says quietly, and opens the door for me to enter.

"I've brought you some rabbit and fish. And I have the remedies you asked for, Ruth," I tell her mother. She looks exhausted and my heart sinks a little lower. I figure they've gotten about as much sleep as I have.

"Thank you," she says. She tries to offer me a smile as she takes the food but it comes off as more of a grimace. Mine does the same.

I glance at the clock and do a double-take. "It's already seven-thirty?" I blurt. "I'll be missing the interviews at this rate."

Prim grabs my hand and leads me over to their couch. "No, you can stay here. You can watch them with us."

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Prim."

We both try to get comfortable on the cushions but end up sitting in an awkward silence. My fingers have started to tingle with nerves and I feel my palms getting sweaty.

Suddenly Ruth breaks the silence. "This is her last chance," she says.

Prim and I look back to find her staring at the television with wide, haunted eyes. The screen is black because the program hasn't started yet, but you'd think there were a murder scene playing out infront of us. I shudder.

"Mother," Prim whispers.

"No, Prim. I'm not going to sit here and let you two delude yourselves. She's always been strong, but the others have been training their whole lives. She can't. She can't beat them."

I just stare at her. Katniss has always complained to me how hopeless her mother is, how much she doesn't care about anything but herself and what she's been through. My mother went through the same thing and became stronger because of it. Ruth broke.

And I can't find it in myself to feel badly for her anymore. How could she sit there and shut down Katniss like that? None of us have lost hope for her. I believe in her.

I turn back to face the wall and try to calm my angry breathing. I clench and unclench my fists. Grind my teeth.

Primrose sniffles beside me, trying not to cry.

"It's okay, Prim," I tell her, wrapping my arm over her shoulders. "Your mother's wrong."

Prim tenses - she can hear the anger in my voice and knows what's coming. "Gale, don't," she whispers. But I can't help it.

"Why not?" Suddenly I'm facing the other side of the room, where Katniss' mother stands staring at me. She is still emotionless but I can tell by the way she is standing that she is alert and not happy. "I thought we were being _honest_ here. I thought we were saying what we think, no matter how much it could hurt other people. So let me tell you the truth, Prim. Because _she_ is deluding _you."_

_"_Gale-" Prim starts.

I cut her off. "Katniss is the strongest person out there. In every way. And there's no way she won't win, because unlike some, she has a heart big enough to come home to us. She'll come home to you no matter what, Prim. She will."

I don't break eye contact with Ruth the entire time I'm talking, and finish by spinning on my heel and heading for the door in two angry strides. I can't stay here, not while she slams down every ounce of hope left we have left. So I don't look back as I leave. I know I'm probably missing the beginning of the interviews, but I can't stand the thought of going back.

When I get back to my house, my anger has died down and turned to exhaustion. _How much longer can this last? _I wonder. The Games haven't even started and we're already falling apart. I decide I'll have to apologize to Katniss' mother the next time I see her, if I can work up the courage.

I storm through the house, throwing my jacket onto the hook without looking to see if it made it.

"Everything okay honey?" my mother asks from the living room. I hear the buzzing of our television and hurry over. Caesar Flickerman is onstage in a ridiculous blue suit. There's glitter all over his face and he seems to be interviewing the female tribute from District 1 or 2.

"Fine," I grumble. "Got into a small argument with Ruth, is all."

My mother turns to look at me sharply. "What?" she asks.

I sigh and tell her what happened, and how I stormed out. "I'm sorry," I finish. "I just couldn't stand to look at her."

My mother rubs my shoulders sympathetically and sighs. "I understand. But you know how hard this must be for her, considering how hard it is for us. Katniss is her daughter, and she loves her. If we aren't patient, her and Primrose will have no one to lean on."

I nod my head and watch as my mother leaves to prepare our food. Vick and Rory go back to quietly playing with Posy.

The interviews go on for another hour or so before the tiny girl from Eleven floats onstage, dressed in a gossamer gown complete with wings, making her look like a delicate bird. My mother returns from the kitchen and shakes her head sadly.

"She's just a child," my mother says. "It's wrong."

I agree. And suddenly the door is open and Prim walks in, holding back tears.

I leap up onto my feet and go over to hug her. "C-can I watch with you guys?" she asks shakily.

"Of course," I say. I don't ask her what happened; I figure it has something to do with her mother's commentary. She must have been as fed up as I was.

Primrose sits herself between my mother and I on the couch. Her cries die down quickly as my mother rubs her back and whispers condolescences. She takes my hand we lock eyes for a moment. She's like her sister in that way - she doesn't need words to send a message. _Thank you._

I nod and squeeze her hand.

"And now," roars Caesar Flickerman. "What we've all been waiting for... The Girl on Fire! Let's hear a big round of applause for Miss Katniss Everdeen!"

And suddenly she's onstage, looking as beautiful as ever. I'm blinded for a moment by her dress, which glimmers and shines like dancing flames of fire. It clings to her body in all the right places and I feel my cheeks heat. My eyes glide up to her face and stay locked there. Her dark grey eyes are shadowed with smoke and her lips are bright, bright red.

"Wow," gapes Rory. I smack him in the arm, but choke out a laugh. I can't blame him. She's gorgeous.

Katniss sits herself on their fancy leather couch and crosses her legs, something I've never seen her do. Before I can get my thought together, Caesar is shooting off questions. "So, Katniss, the Capital must be quite a change from District 12. What has impressed you the most since you arrived here?"

Katniss' eyes widen for a moment as she realizes that she needs to speak. She opens her mouth and blurts, "The lamb stew."

We all laugh at that. Typical Katniss.

The Capitol laughs as though it's the most hilarious thing they've ever heard and listens intently through the rest of her interview. I'm relieved at how much they love her. She must have more sponsers than anyone at this point, and she's just being herself.

Caesar asks her what she thinks of her costume and her face lights up enthusiastically."I thought Cinna was brilliant and it was the most gorgeous costume I'd ever seen and I couldn't believe I was wearing it. I can't believe I'm wearing this, either." Katinss stares down at her glimmering dress. "I mean, look at it!" she exclaims.

And we do. Katniss stands up and twirls, and her dress flows out around her like a brightly lit fire. The crowd goes crazy.

But then he asks about Primrose, and everyone goes quiet. I pull Prim closer to me on the couch and swallow hard. I can feel her shaking. "Let's go back to the moment they called your sister's name at the Reaping. And you volunteered, " Caesar says. "Can you tell us about her?"

I close my eyes for a moment. They shouldn't have sunk this far. Katniss pretends to stay calm but I can see the pain in her eyes. "Her name's Prim. She's just twelve. And I love her more than anything."

Prim whimpers next to me and starts crying. "Shh," I whisper. "It's okay." She leans into my side, eyes glued to the screen.

"What did she say to you? After the Reaping?" Caesar asks.

"She asked me to try really hard to win," Katniss says quietly.

"And what did you say?"

"I swore I would."

Bingo. Sponsers must be pouring in.

The buzzer goes off and Katniss flutters off the stage, gone from our view. My mother tries to console Prim as I stare at the screen, barely listening to Mellark's interview. But when I do zone back in, my attention snaps into focus.

Caesar asks him if he has a girlfriend back home. Peeta shakes his head, but it's obvious that he is lying.

Caesar bumps his shoulder teasingly and says, "Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?"

Peeta sighs. "Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

The crowd _Aww_s and _Boo_s understandingly. Unrequited love they can relate to.

"She have another fellow?" Caesar asks.

"I don't know, but I lot of boys like her," Peeta says.

Caesar tells him, "So here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?"

Peeta shakes his head and looks down at his hands. They're shaking. "I don't think it's going to work out. Winning... Won't help in my case."

And suddenly I know.

Peeta's face is beet red. I can see him swallow hard and look out at the audience uneasily. Who else could he be talking about? I think back to the Opening Ceremonies, and see Katniss and Peeta rolling through the City Square, waving and holding hands. They were standing so much closer than the other tributes.

And I remember thinking that they must have known eachother from before somehow.

My eyes widen to the point of blurring and I spring forward in my seat.

Prim gasps next to me. "Oh no," she whispers.

Caesar is oblivious. "Why ever not?" he asks stupidly.

I see red in my vision. "Don't say it," I growl under my breath.

But he does. He says it. The words appear over and over in my head, written in red hot anger.

"Because... Because she came here with me."

* * *

The silence in the room is endless. Even little Posy has looked up from her toys. She looks to the screen, then to us, then back to the TV. "Mama, what is it?" she asks. No one answers.

I can feel the eyes of everyone in the room on me. The air closes in and I can't take it anymore. I jump up from the couch and run to the door, my body shaking with anger and hurt.

"Gale wait-"

I slam the door on my way out and start running, not looking back. It's dark out and I can barely see where I'm going, but I know the general direction of the woods and don't stop until I reach the fence. Breathing hard, I scurry under and walk until I reach our rock.

I lie down on my back and stare up at the moon.

How could I have been so stupid as to think we'd end up together? I'd be lying to myself if I said that she was going to come home to me. She only ever wanted me as a friend, she'd made that very clear. And I'd done everything in my right mind to change that, except tell her how I felt.

I should have told her. If I told her, maybe my hope wouldn't be completely shattered.

Because I saw the way she looked after he said it. Right before I ran out, I saw seen the camera zoom in on her face. And I saw her blushing.

And when I think back on it, I have never, in our four years together, ever made her blush like that.

* * *

**Reviews please!**


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